


can't put my faith in what i can't describe

by lostin_space



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Dog Tags, Gen, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 06:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19043143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostin_space/pseuds/lostin_space
Summary: isobel discovers michael's weakness(title: clean eyes by syml)





	can't put my faith in what i can't describe

_”Where the fuck are they?!”_

Isobel worriedly watched as Michael tore his tiny airstream apart.  They’d had plans to meet up for brunch like they do almost every Saturday, her idea, and he hadn’t shown up.  The last time he hadn’t shown up was a year ago when he got so drunk he slept for nearly 30 hours straight.  She was pretty certain that’s what she was going to see when she pulled up.  Instead, it was far from it.

“I need them.  I’m not going to be able to sleep if I don’t find them.  I need them, I need them,  _where are they?!”_  Michael was freaking out in a way she hadn’t seen him before.  Usually, in times of crisis, he was good at keeping a cool head.  Apparently, he just needed to lose something and he’d go batshit.

“Michael, what are you looking for?” Isobel said softly.  He ignored her, going through the blankets on his bed for a fourth time in hopes he’d find whatever it was tangled up in them this time rather than the other three.

No matter how many times she’d said his name, Michael would barely give her more than a glance.  The logical solution would be to get in his head and just find out what he was looking for so she could help, but she detested going in his head.  Not just because it felt like a breach of privacy to enter his brother’s mind without his permission, Michael’s brain was also just too much.  She didn’t even like thinking about how he survived in there.  It had to be torture.

Still, she had to do something.  There was no end in sight of this breakdown and he looked about three seconds away from crying.

“Michael, if you tell me what it is, I can help you find it,” Isobel said softly, hesitantly reaching a hand out to touch his arm.  He flinched, his head snapping to face with her nothing but confusion and shock as if he was just noticing she was even there. “What are you looking for?  Let me help.” Isobel made sure her voice was even sweeter now.  His big eyes were heavy with tears and, when he finally blinked, one droplet escaped and traced across his cheek.

“I had ‘em before I took a shower, Izzy, I  _know_  I did.  I-I took ‘em off and put them on the counter so I knew where they’d be.” Michael’s voice cracked as he spoke, his bottom lip quivering.  “I need ‘em.”  Isobel quickly grabbed the back of his head, pulling him into a hug and cradling him close.  

“What is it?  Let me look, maybe I can find them.  Different eyes,” she offered.  Michael took a deep breath before pulling out of her embrace.  He didn’t even bother saying anything more as he went right back to tearing everything apart.

She hated seeing him like this.  She would kill anyone or anything that made him like this.  Yet, no matter how much she wracked her brain, she couldn’t think of anything that could possibly do it.

She only had one option.

Isobel took a slow breath as she focused in on him, luring him to let her in his mind.  There was no question once she found herself there, the scenery around them changing rapidly and swirling too much to even say what it might’ve been.  Voices that hadn’t been there before sounded at different levels all around them, each more unintelligible than the others.  Colored lights darted around the space, mainly around Michael, almost as if begging her to give them her attention.  Michael himself stood before her and, instead of in that trance-like state that everyone else was, looked terrified and was shaking.  That’s how he always looked whenever she tried to get inside his head.  She’d been in there for less than a second and already felt sick.

“Michael,” she said slowly as she tried to keep herself grounded.  He was too easy to get lost inside.  The background seemed to expand more and more as the voices got louder, everything making her dizzier and dizzier.  Michael’s eyes were squeezed shut.  “What are you searching for?”

Silence.  Well, not silence.  Silence from Michael.

The lights that were shooting around him seemed to get brighter and move faster.  She didn’t even know what the hell they were.  No one else had them, not even Max.  It wasn’t an alien thing, it was simply a Michael thing.  She wondered if anyone else in existence had them or if he was really that alone.

“Michael,” she coaxed again, “Tell me what you’re looking for.”

His eyes opened, that fear on his face quickly being replaced with rage as he shouted, “Alex Manes’ dog tags!”

At the same time, the lights around them popped and flared and the space shrunk painfully until it physically threw her out without much of a notice.

Isobel gasped, stumbling backward as if she’d been pushed by something other than his unhinged psyche and had to stable herself on the tiny countertop.  Michael was already looking at her as she caught her breath and tried not to puke.

“Stay out of my fucking head,” he snapped, immediately heading towards the definitely-not-a-bathroom that he called a bathroom.  She couldn’t follow.

“I want to help,” Isobel said, still trying to steady her own mind, “Why do you have Alex Manes’ dog tags?”  She had more than just that question, but that was a starting place.  Every other question was simply a follow-up.  The main ones being, “Since when were you friends?” and “Why would losing them prevent you from sleep?”.  Of course, she could assume what all these answers were, but she’d learned to assume things with Michael wouldn’t always get you to the correct place.

He stared at her in annoying, but the pain in his face still broke through.  He was hurting so badly, it couldn’t have just been from this one little thing.  How did she not notice that?  She  _did_  notice, however, that he seemed to be debating what he should even tell her.  She prayed it was the truth.  He needed to talk.  She wished she’d only realized that sooner.

“I stole them last time he was in town,” Michael said eventually.  Well, that wasn’t exactly the answer she was expecting.

“Why would you steal them?” Isobel asked, her palm pressing against the wall as she led herself to sit on his bed.  Seriously, how did he stay in that head of his all the time?

Michael didn’t budge from his spot in the bathroom doorway, “I steal something from him every time he comes home.”

“Michael, you do realize that’s not telling me anything other than you’re a kleptomaniac,” Isobel said.  She expected him to at least roll his eyes, but he didn’t.  He just closed them, resting his head against the definitely-not-a-door-frame.

“C’mon, Izzy,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest, “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth, preferably,” Isobel said before patting the bed beside her, “Come talk.  Clearly, you need to vent and clear your mind a little.  Then we’ll find the dog tags.”

Reluctantly, Michael came and sat beside her.  He was twenty-six and had stubble and chest hair on display, but, right now, he looked no more than 12.  He was a baby for a moment, her baby.  They took turns on who took care of who.  She was long overdue for some Michael babying.  

Isobel grabbed his head once again and pulled him to her.  He was calmer this time, letting himself relax against her as she held him.  She made a mental note to do this more often.  He needed it.

“Alex does this stupid thing where he kinda just finds me when he comes back to town.  I don’t know if he does it on purpose or if the universe just puts us in the same place, but it happens.  Literally, even if he’s only in town for a couple days, I’ll see him and we’ll hook up.” Michael paused as if waiting for her to have some big reaction to his admission.  She wasn’t exactly shocked, though, and nor could she say she had a big reaction.  Sure, she wasn’t a fan that the person her brother was plowing every chance he got was so closely tied to the Ortechos, but Michael wasn’t stupid.  Their secret was safe. “I can’t say no to him, Izzy, even when it hurts.  And it  _hurts_.  He’ll come and we’ll stay in here and he’ll stay a couple hours or the night.  One time I begged enough and he stayed a couple days.  But then he’ll just slip out without saying goodbye and I won’t see him or hear from him for at least months.”

Isobel ran her hand through his hair, “He sounds like an asshole.”

“No.  No, he’s not.  He’s scared of his dad and doesn’t want to get attached or anything.  If anyone’s in the wrong, it’s me. If it hurts so bad, I should just tell him no,” Michael murmured before sniffling loudly, “But I can’t.  I’ll literally take whatever he gives me.”

“Michael…” she trailed off, trying to find the words to give him to comfort him.  She couldn’t find them.  She couldn’t imagine being at someone’s will like that, letting someone walk all over you just because you couldn’t say no. “Why?  Why do you keep doing that after all this time?”

“I… I don’t know.  It hurts more to think that I won’t get stolen moments with him.  And, and when he’s  _here_?  It’s so good, Iz, it‒”

“I don’t want to hear about sex with Alex Manes.”

“I’m not talking about the sex, I’m… I’m talking about  _us_.  When he’s with me, it’s like my brain doesn’t need to be moving at a million miles a minute.  He touches me and stuff slows down.  It-it doesn’t even make sense, I don’t know why it’s him.  It…” Isobel couldn’t tell if Michael had stopped talking or if he just slowly got quieter and quieter until she couldn’t hear him anymore.

“Maybe you’re in love with him,” Isobel suggested offhandedly.  She was in love with Noah and it didn’t really compute with what Micahel was saying, but she couldn’t find another word for what he was saying.  All she knew was that if someone,  _anyone_  could help his mind, she was thankful for them and loved them just as much.

“He doesn’t care that I take his stuff.  If he does, he never said anything,” Michael mumbled, ignoring what she’d just said, “It just helps me.  I feel closer to him when I have his stuff like he’s still here or like I can feel him.  I can’t sleep without them anymore.”

It was only then she noticed the Air Force t-shirt that was being used in lieu of an actual pillowcase.

“Sometimes I think we share dreams,” Michael admitted, his voice even softer than before.  Isobel couldn’t help but furrowed her eyebrows as she looked down at him.  Dream sharing absolutely wasn’t impossible, she’d done it a couple times on accident with Max when they were kids, but Michael wasn’t psychic.  And, even if he was, Alex was a human and there was no way that could be a thing.        

“Michael, I don’t think that’s happening,” Isobel said as carefully as possible.  Michael was fragile right now.  She didn’t want to break him more, even if it was honest.

“You don’t understand,” Michael insisted, trying to pull out of her grasp.  She held him close.  “They’re too real, he’s too there.  He’s always there…  I think he got hurt. It feels like he’s hurt.  ‘Swhy I need his tags.  I gotta hold him close so he’s there, so he knows I’m there.”

Isobel hated thinking it, but he sounded pathetic.  He was pining after a guy who clearly didn’t even give enough of shit about him to say goodbye.  He was using her brother because he knew he wouldn’t deny him.  He was just a reliable fuck to some entitled military brat.

“He loves me,” Michael whispered with a level of determination that felt like a blow to the stomach.  What was the nicest way to tell him that Alex Manes absolutely did not feel that way?

“You… you need to let go of him, Michael.  There’s no reason you should be holding onto someone who treats you like that.  That isn’t love,” Isobel tried.  In an instant, he pulled away.  Babying time was over.  She spoke too soon.

“If you’re not gonna help me find them, you can leave,” he sniffled simply, going back to searching the floor.

Isobel watched him helplessly for a minute.  He wasn’t going to listen.  He was just going to let this guy fuck with him over and over.  Next time Alex Manes came to town, she would personally see to it that he left her brother the fuck alone.

But, until then, she would have to sit with this.  She would have to watch him act fine every other day of the year, pretending like he didn’t have a personal shrine of stolen things from Alex Manes that he couldn’t sleep without.  That he cried without.

“Ah!” Michael shouted suddenly, holding up the chain and staring at them like they were the most precious things in the world.  She watched with a heavy heart as he cradled them to his chest, his eyes closing and the last of his tears pushing past his eyes in thanks.  There he sat on the floor, acting like the pointless metal was the only thing helping him breathe.

Isobel was terrified.  This was too much, Michael was feeling too much.  It wouldn’t take but a small push to get him to tell all their secrets to some guy who was literally apart of the government.  Michael was in too deep and she didn’t trust him to keep his mouth shut, no matter how much he promised.

She was going to kill Alex Manes.

**Author's Note:**

> also on my tumblr: spaceskam


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